DARRELL NORMAN: Columns leave an enduring record

Published: Friday, September 14, 2012 at 6:38 p.m.

Last Modified: Friday, September 14, 2012 at 6:40 p.m.

The newspaper columns of Al McIntosh deliver the soul of Ernie Pyle in the voice of Garrison Keillor. That would guarantee a book of his columns a place on the shelf with my favorite writers.

But my copy of “Selected Chaff: The Wartime Columns of Al McIntosh 1941-1945” is not a book for the shelf. I bought it in the Kindle edition. I could not wait until I finished the book to write about it.

McIntosh’s name may not be familiar, but it is likely you have heard his words on television — in the voice of Tom Hanks.

In his seven-part documentary “The War,” Ken Burns devotes one part to the towns of Mobile, Sacramento, Calif., Waterbury, Conn., and Luverne, Minn.

In photographs, film, letters, live interviews and voice-overs, it describes the experiences of World War II on the home front.

I took keen interest in the Mobile portion. Mobile is at the other end of my home state; some of those interviewed speak in the honeyed magnolia accent I recently wrote about; and my aunt Myrt left our little hometown of Trafford to work in the shipyards of Mobile.

Aside from this tenuous personal link to Mobile, I was more impressed when I heard people experienced the war in Luverne, “a fur piece” from south Alabama.

McIntosh was the owner and editor of the Rock County Herald-Star, a weekly serving Luverne and the surrounding area. In his columns, McIntosh gave his readers the war news they wanted most to hear: how our “boys” are doing.

Ernie Pyle had written a syndicated column about small-town America in the years leading up to the country’s entry into the war, roaming the country in a Ford coupe with a portable typewriter.

When the war began he took his typewriter to the front lines and the foxholes to tell his readers back home how their “boys” were doing. Taking a cue from small-town society columnists, Pyle included the names of as many soldiers as he could, along with their hometowns.

McIntosh did the same. He wrote about how local citizens were reacting to such things as tire rationing and tin can drives, but mainly he wrote about young men leaving home for the war, where they were training, when they were injured, when they were killed.

He wrote of the mix of grief and pride families felt when they received a letter from the War Department that began “We regret to inform you …”

Every week on his radio program, “A Prairie Home Companion,” Keillor reports the news from Lake Wobegon, his fictional hometown in the center of Minnesota, founded (as Luverne was) by German and Scandinavian immigrants, mostly Norwegians.

As I read the names of Rock County soldiers and sailors in McIntosh’s columns from 70 years ago, it is easy to imagine I am hearing Keillor’s monologue from last Saturday night.

In Lake Wobegon, the Bunsen brothers, Clint and Clarence, own the Ford dealership. Florian Krebsbach sells Chevrolets. Their customers are named Tolerud, Tollefson, Magendanz, Magneson and Thvorvald. The Herald-Star newspaper is owned by Harold Star.

McIntosh writes that a sailor came in and asked where he could find the Red Cross chairman. The editor called Ray Engan, who left in the middle of his lunch to hear the sailor’s request.

The sailor said he was on leave to see his sick sister in Ortonville and had run out of money. Engan advanced Red Cross funds to help him: $1 for meals and $3.73 for bus fare. The sailor was arrested soon after for desertion.

It is not the desertion nor the amount of the advance that strikes me, but Engan’s dashing away from his lunch to help. The editor knew where to find him, and Lena or Etta would keep his lunch warm. If it had been in Lake Wobegon, he would have been at the lunch counter at the Chatterbox Café or the bar at the Sidetrack Tap.

I do not mean to make light of McIntosh’s outstanding work by comparing it to a work of fiction. Just the opposite.

He is our essential narrator of the war. He is our Greek chorus. He speaks to us in the plain, direct and eloquent language of Luverne and Lake Wobegon. Small towns out on the edge of the prairie.

Darrell Norman is a columnist for The Gadsden Times. He can be reachedat darrell.norman7@gmail.com.

<p>The newspaper columns of Al McIntosh deliver the soul of Ernie Pyle in the voice of Garrison Keillor. That would guarantee a book of his columns a place on the shelf with my favorite writers.</p><p>But my copy of “Selected Chaff: The Wartime Columns of Al McIntosh 1941-1945” is not a book for the shelf. I bought it in the Kindle edition. I could not wait until I finished the book to write about it.</p><p>McIntosh's name may not be familiar, but it is likely you have heard his words on television — in the voice of Tom Hanks.</p><p>In his seven-part documentary “The War,” Ken Burns devotes one part to the towns of Mobile, Sacramento, Calif., Waterbury, Conn., and Luverne, Minn.</p><p>In photographs, film, letters, live interviews and voice-overs, it describes the experiences of World War II on the home front.</p><p>I took keen interest in the Mobile portion. Mobile is at the other end of my home state; some of those interviewed speak in the honeyed magnolia accent I recently wrote about; and my aunt Myrt left our little hometown of Trafford to work in the shipyards of Mobile.</p><p>Aside from this tenuous personal link to Mobile, I was more impressed when I heard people experienced the war in Luverne, “a fur piece” from south Alabama.</p><p>McIntosh was the owner and editor of the Rock County Herald-Star, a weekly serving Luverne and the surrounding area. In his columns, McIntosh gave his readers the war news they wanted most to hear: how our “boys” are doing.</p><p>Ernie Pyle had written a syndicated column about small-town America in the years leading up to the country's entry into the war, roaming the country in a Ford coupe with a portable typewriter.</p><p>When the war began he took his typewriter to the front lines and the foxholes to tell his readers back home how their “boys” were doing. Taking a cue from small-town society columnists, Pyle included the names of as many soldiers as he could, along with their hometowns.</p><p>McIntosh did the same. He wrote about how local citizens were reacting to such things as tire rationing and tin can drives, but mainly he wrote about young men leaving home for the war, where they were training, when they were injured, when they were killed.</p><p>He wrote of the mix of grief and pride families felt when they received a letter from the War Department that began “We regret to inform you …”</p><p>Every week on his radio program, “A Prairie Home Companion,” Keillor reports the news from Lake Wobegon, his fictional hometown in the center of Minnesota, founded (as Luverne was) by German and Scandinavian immigrants, mostly Norwegians.</p><p>As I read the names of Rock County soldiers and sailors in McIntosh's columns from 70 years ago, it is easy to imagine I am hearing Keillor's monologue from last Saturday night.</p><p>In Lake Wobegon, the Bunsen brothers, Clint and Clarence, own the Ford dealership. Florian Krebsbach sells Chevrolets. Their customers are named Tolerud, Tollefson, Magendanz, Magneson and Thvorvald. The Herald-Star newspaper is owned by Harold Star.</p><p>In Luverne, names that appear in McIntosh's Star-Herald columns include Krohn, Turnstall, Ormseth, Bierkamp, Dybedock, Ellefson, Haakenson, Shadwinkel, Smook, Magneson and Thorvald.</p><p>McIntosh writes that a sailor came in and asked where he could find the Red Cross chairman. The editor called Ray Engan, who left in the middle of his lunch to hear the sailor's request.</p><p>The sailor said he was on leave to see his sick sister in Ortonville and had run out of money. Engan advanced Red Cross funds to help him: $1 for meals and $3.73 for bus fare. The sailor was arrested soon after for desertion.</p><p>It is not the desertion nor the amount of the advance that strikes me, but Engan's dashing away from his lunch to help. The editor knew where to find him, and Lena or Etta would keep his lunch warm. If it had been in Lake Wobegon, he would have been at the lunch counter at the Chatterbox Café or the bar at the Sidetrack Tap.</p><p>I do not mean to make light of McIntosh's outstanding work by comparing it to a work of fiction. Just the opposite.</p><p>He is our essential narrator of the war. He is our Greek chorus. He speaks to us in the plain, direct and eloquent language of Luverne and Lake Wobegon. Small towns out on the edge of the prairie.</p>
<p class="italic font120">Darrell Norman is a columnist for The Gadsden Times. He can be reached<br>at darrell.norman7@gmail.com.</p>